“You should remember that I’m paid for what I do,” Monica said. “I enjoy it—it is hard work, but the day consumes itself, almost without my volition—and in any case I wouldn’t be there if I weren’t being paid.”

“Don’t you think I’m paid too, eventually?” Sheila said, irritated. “Whatever I do at this point in my ‘career,’ it’s something Trask has done—which makes the predicament all the more awful. The gravity.”

“I don’t understand,” Monica said, perhaps too lightly.

“Then you don’t,” Sheila said, letting the subject drop.

Monica told herself that she wasn’t jealous—well, perhaps she was slightly jealous—of Sheila Trask’s talent.

And her reputation.